


Prussian memory

by PrussianHistorianWhoLikesAUs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sad, Songfic, Sorry Not Sorry, Why Did I Write This?, not a tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrussianHistorianWhoLikesAUs/pseuds/PrussianHistorianWhoLikesAUs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia is reminded of the past, and he loses his happy composure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prussian memory

_And I still feel that rush in my veins._  
_It twists my head just a bit to think._  
_All those people in those old photographs I’ve seen are dead._

Prussia looks through his old pictures. All of them were done by hand. He could feel how his head hurts. It hurts so badly. He wished that it wasn’t there, that the pain would go away, but it would not leave him.  
Old Fritz. All those paintings of his beloved boss. All those precious moments he spend with him preserved on colorful canvas. The rush in his veins, the twists in his head, the pain in his chest as he is reminded it was no more.  
Old Fritz was gone. And he was gone forever. Prussia knew that and it made his pain deepen knowing that he was gone forever. Only memories and some paintings were left to show his face.  
Holy Rome. Holy Rome and all the german states. They were all gone. So many had admired him, and some were kind to him. Holy Rome was kind and good, and Prussia remembered how he had played his flute for him when he was sick and weak.  
Germany didn’t understand why his brother had broken down crying when he saw him sick in bed this morning, and when he asked he only got the answer **“All the people in those old paintings I’ve seen are dead”**

_There’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back_  
_Well tell her that I miss our little talks_  
_Soon it will be over and buried with our past_  
_We used to play outside when we were young_  
_And full of life and full of love._

Prussia hears a voice everytime he sees her. The voice was of someone he used to play with all the time, such fun was to be had for young nations as they would go hunting as equals.  
But it was worse than that, it reminded him of her. Of all they shared with one another, the bonds words held from all the little talks of the childhood memories. It didn’t matter, it was soon to pass along with its memories.  
“Gilbert?”  
The voice asked, no longer held in his head as a face with a mouth came with the voice attached to it, along with emerald eyes and long brown hair. Prussia felt an unusual sensation that was yet so familiar beneath his eyes, and he knew what it was.  
The fountain had leaked when it wasn’t supposed to, and he hadn’t realized it before it all was left wet and needed to be dried. He couldn’t let her have to carry his burdens, no matter how heavy they were he saw them as his to carry “It isn’t anything, just got something in my eye-”  
An odd different sensation came to his face, one he only recognised in centuries old memories. His molten tears were wiped away by the sensation of a gentle touch of a finger. Hungary’s finger.  
“Tell me” a gentle voice asked. A gentle voice that was like a memory, not real, not there, yet he could not lie that he heard it, that he heard it from her lips, and that it was genuine.  
“I miss-” his voice chokes before he could finish, and not long after his arms were wrapped around Hungary, the words left to hang, for what wasn’t said was now known, and she returned it back, unlike all his _**memories**_.


End file.
